Un poignant tristesse

http://afrosonics.tumblr.com/post/134182732889/you-cant-live-without-gods-i-didnt-come-here-to

Nat Turner's granddaughters finally know how beautiful they are

Twirling their saddle wrapped braids on the playground next to Miles Davis. They're all children and forever will.  be    .    A black  middle  class.  Never will be   the goal   or   ...     They all get buckets of chicken from their mothers, land on double sided trains on the way to reclaimed territory in Arkansas or Live at the Plantation Club  with  Billy Eckstein and them  rubbing wings together   to make a ground     we'll be   the   gold      cash   for        neon   on the door
                                                                                                            It was my job   to understand
all our   patient      violence      as   sorrow and          that   way   (nor)            cry  about it privately   like      a   dry   elbow   under   leadership  oak /   folks   wanna   pop   off   /   better   have   the   plan       and that's   as good   as   any     being   Nat Turner's   genes  run  through  me like every other  fantasy   and you     should see these   braids     trading  fingers    with   piano  keys     at Communist   Training   School     first   person     infinitive       all   the   disobedience    trapped in beauty   coming  loose     as      style

Hood Science (1)

I'm sure his childhood was in his mind    waving


Hey, I'm here with my things; we can share them! 


      meet me at the childbirth, meet me at the abduction



or in the original language there are no vowels        Let me show you



how  howl  whitey   take a bow     mouth   roving like a fan suspended in gold bling  and lantern  gone nul  owl    whole gone


Let me show you how these magnetic fields self-organize everything , so you see how these cells move into place    

                              make villages    disgrace mixed with     polymorphic    I hate you   I love   you , sure      be   careful  when you're trying  to get dangerous   with high   science,   be careful


Muhammad Ali, poisoned
Michael Jackson, poisoned
Eazy E, poisoned  
                                            by the president,   by the fame   toy    


       and         my father's  childhood          stuck  in my mind
                                                                                                               a warning walking in every direction   at   once          a getaway  

(chump)

Why you here in the first place?

You could find things beautiful on the radio

Even the sunny black n blond ones dancing like Toms in the wings  of their   wandering casualness  (hotline bling   asmr  ad sense   revenants     could be found  laughing   tender  round the gentry/unburdened orinthology , and  me singing along in a buttered SUV   wishing it a minty vespa   wishing supper was all those coconuts   mumbling  about privilege into my     adobe  will      and  answering us   we wanted it thus        the fetish of our ancestry  worn   as   the phantom exuberance   of trends  is warn    as dented  sweaters   as Dante's  leftover treason  swarms  in we       there's a whole scene of vegan chefs whispering into plastic bags and you think earth  is no weirder than lenny bruce on stage   at a resort      in your memory      that was your mother  laughing  at the minstrel   she   made    in  a  mercy    she     heard about on the radio   mailed   in for /  papa  , look at your  shadow     mama is no   colonist  getting  loose   on the  camera/ phone     werk!   gul    werk  some more